Both these necessities came of the consideration that the letter would of course be shown to Totty Nancarrow, and Totty must have no cause of complaint.

'Dear Mr.Ackroyd'-- that was written, but might it stand?
It meant so much, so much.

But how else to begin?
Did not everybody begin letters in that way?
She really could not say 'Dear Sir.' Then--for the letter _must_ be finished, the hour was getting so late--'Yours truly, Lydia Trent.' Surely that was commonplace enough.

Yes, but to say 'yours;' that too meant so much.

Was she not indeed his?
And might not Totty suspect something in that 'yours ?' You see that Lyddy was made a very philosopher by love; she had acquired all at once the power of seeing through the outward show of things, of perceiving what really lies below our conventional forms.